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2002-09-10 || 10:12 a.m. || sundays around the corner || the neighborhood: on sundays the grannies come out in their sunday finest, fluorescent red cardigan sweaters and sequiny knit caps, high heels that accentuate swollen ankles. they are whisked away in a noisy procession of cadillacs and buicks and oldsmobiles, windows up, leaving only the most faint outlines and the benevolent ghosts of rose water and lavender talc. after church the grannies return to putter in their front yards and gardens, the points of their heels punching dainty trails in the grass, conjuring up spells of ladybugs and butterflies with some whispered snippets from the day's gospel reading and the finest dust of pollen in the palms of their paper hands. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |